Stuck Like A Glue Stick
by Lolsome-o-sis girl
Summary: [Tom/Lexi] All of a sudden, the elevator lets out an unhealthy noise, like metal scraping against metal, before it stops moving all together. The lights flicker for a few seconds, before cutting out completely, save for the little number thirteen above the closed steel doors. Great. As if his day couldn't get any worse.


**Stuck Like A Glue Stick**

 _Fandom: Wizards vs Aliens_

 _Ratings: K+_

 _Genre: Humor, Romance_

 _Pairing: Tom/Lexi_

 _Word count: 1549_

 _Summary: All of a sudden, the elevator lets out an unhealthy noise, like metal scraping against metal, before it stops moving all together. The lights flicker for a few seconds, before cutting out completely, save for the little number thirteen above the closed steel doors. Great. As if his day couldn't get any worse._

* * *

 **AN: I was writing something else entirely for this fandom, when this prompt found its way to me, and so did some** _ **Friend or Foe**_ **\- esque** **bickering. Ah, the good old days.**

 **DISCLAIMER. I do not own WvA.**

* * *

 _The elevator dings … . and dings … . And Person A sees a number thirteen light up … and ding – And – The elevator struggles to a stop, a loud crushing noise sounding from above. The lights flicker for a moment, and then go out._ _Person A and Person B are both stuck inside the elevator._

* * *

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" Tom sends his best friend an irritated look, pressing the button for the lift for the third time. "They've got me running errands to the sandwich shop. _Again_."

Benny smirks. "Sounds _hair-raising_."

"Oh, ha ha. Funny." He hits the button yet again. Nothing. The elevator is still stuck at the floor above. "I thought work experience was supposed to be about _work_. Not _this_."

"What can I say? I tried to get you put on floor twenty with me; it's not my fault that they screwed it all up and got you put with the hairdressers."

"Yeah. Just keep telling yourself that."

The lift doors slide open at that point, and Tom makes a point to fold his arms as he steps inside the elevator, Benny's chuckling only being cut off by the doors closing again.

The lift doesn't travel very far, however; Tom only makes it down one floor before the doors open again, and a blonde strides inside, a phone in one hand, a pile of papers in the other. She nudges the button for the thirteenth floor with her elbow, not bothering to acknowledge the fact that someone else is there. Tom focuses on the electronic sign above the door, watching the numbers climb down towards thirteen.

All of a sudden, the elevator lets out an unhealthy noise, like metal scraping against metal, before it stops moving all together. The lights flicker for a few seconds, before cutting out completely, save for the little number thirteen above the closed steel doors.

Great. As if his day couldn't get any worse.

The blonde, however, is glaring at the neon sign above their heads like it has personally done her wrong.

"Does this look like the thirteenth floor?" She demands, to no one in particular. " _Does this look like the thirteenth floor!?_ " She hammers on the side of the elevator with her palm with a loud, unintelligible angry noise, exhaling sharply, before offhandedly glancing back at Tom over her shoulder. "Well? Aren't you going to try and help me do something?"

Tom pulls a face at her in response, finding his phone in his pocket and swiping the screen to unlock it. He holds the device towards the ceiling.

"No signal. Nothing."

"For God's sake!" The blonde takes her own phone out of her pocket; upon realising that he's right, she starts hurriedly pressing buttons on the lift panel beside her.

"I don't think that's working -" Tom starts to say, but he's cut off with a scorching glare.

"It has to work! These lifts were specifically designed to _not_ break down!"

"Okay, okay!" Tom holds his hands up in a surrendering gesture. "Who made you the fountain of knowledge?"

"Since my father owns this building, and my grandfather built this place with his bare hands, I think I have a _right_ to be the fountain of knowledge!"

" _Alright_! God, calm down!"

" _Calm down_?" She sounds like she's on the verge of hysterics. "Don't tell me to _calm down_! When _you_ are about to miss the most important meeting of your career, all because you're stuck in a crummy elevator, _then_ you can tell me to _**calm down**_!" She ends her rant with another incoherent noise of frustration, letting her head fall forward and bang against the wall, the pile of papers sliding from her fingers and fluttering to the ground.

Since it seems like they're not going anywhere else anytime soon, Tom decides to make himself as comfortable as possible, and so sits on the floor, watching as the blonde begins to pace up and down in the small space, muttering angrily under her breath.

"This cannot be happening," she grumbles, over and over again. "I'm stuck in an _elevator_ , for crying out loud."

"Give it a rest, would you?" Tom snaps after a while.

She turns her attention on to him. "What are you - Are you _actually_ sitting on the floor?"

"Well, we're not exactly going anywhere, are we?"

"Don't remind me." She runs a hand through her hair, before choosing to sit beside him, amongst the small river of A4 paper that now surrounds them. "We're never going to get out. I know it. I'm going to die in here."

"Don't be so melodramatic. You won't die in here of anything other than boredom." Tom gestures to the sheets of A4. "What's all this stuff, anyway?"

"Plans for a new business model," she replies, sounding weary now rather than furious. "I was going to present it in a meeting today, but, as you can see, that hasn't exactly worked out." She picks one of the sheets up, before letting go of it again, watching it drop back to the floor. "What about you? Where were you off to?"

"The sandwich shop across the street." She sends him a questioning glance. "The people on floor eighteen think that _work experience_ means that I'm the delivery bloke."

"Work experience, hm? Nice. At least you get to go home at the end of the day."

"What do you mean by that?"

"My family owns this building, remember? Everything in our lives is centred around this place. Once you start working here, you never leave, not really."

"Ouch. That would drive me insane."

"Well, you know what they say..." The blonde raises an eyebrow, a half smile playing on her lips. "...you don't have to be crazy to be here, but it helps." The two of them share a quiet chuckle, before lapsing back into silence.

"I'm Lexi, by the way," she says suddenly, holding out a hand. "Considering the last time that I got stuck in here, I was stuck in here for an hour and a half, we might as well get on first name terms."

"Hi, Lexi." He shakes her hand. "Tom. So, what now?"

Lexi gives a half shrug. "Don't ask me. I don't know."

"I thought you were the fountain of knowledge."

She leans back against the wall, mimicking Tom's relaxed position, a small smile on her face. "Oh, I still am. Make no mistake about that. I just didn't plan for getting stuck in an elevator. Any phone signal?"

"Uh...nope."

"Perfect." Lexi exhales heavily. "So we're just stuck here indefinitely."

"Seems like it." He closes his eyes as he speaks. "Got any Scrabble or something?"

Lexi chuckles at that, but before she can say anything in reply, the lift clanks loudly, and the lights flood back on, blinding them momentarily, before the blonde jumps back up, pulling Tom to his feet too.

"See?" He says. "Told you that you weren't going to die."

"Shut up," Lexi replies, rolling her eyes, scavenging her pile of papers from the floor, just as the lift doors slide open onto floor twelve, allowing them to escape. "Next time, I'm going to take the stairs."

"Are you sure? You could trip and fall."

"I'd rather take my chances than end up stuck in there again," Lexi declares firmly, nudging Tom with her arm, just before they part ways. "That being said, I guess you weren't such bad elevator company. It could have been a lot worse. I could have been stuck with my brother."

"Thanks," he calls, after her retreating form. "I think."

By the time he's made it to the sandwich shop and back, it's been over an hour since he was first sent out to retrieve lunch. Going by the disapproving glares he gets from the other staff, none of them are impressed with having to wait for their sandwiches, even after he explains _multiple times_ about being stuck in the elevator with no way to pull food out of thin air. However, when he gets back to his own temporary desk, he sees that a cup of coffee has been left out for him, one that has a post-it note stuck to it, which reads _"Not so bad after all!",_ complete with an awful cartoon drawing of two people stuck in a lift _,_ and that almost - _almost_ \- makes up for it.


End file.
